Rachel barely slept.
She spent the night in a guest room at Jonathan's recommendation, while Harris arranged for additional security around the hospital and made sure Eric could not access Olivia without Rachel's knowledge. The baby's quiet breathing from the portable monitor beside the bed was the only steady sound in the room.
At 6:17 in the morning, Rachel woke from a shallow sleep.
Her first thought was Olivia.
Her second was Mae.
The name still felt wrong in her mouth.
Not because Mae itself was wrong.
Because Eric had taken something that belonged to Claire and placed it onto Rachel's daughter without telling her why.
At 7:03, Harris called.
“The flash drive is being processed.”
Rachel sat up.
“Anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Did you find Rebecca?”
“Not directly.”
Rachel's stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the number that contacted you isn't registered to her.”
“So she might not be the one messaging me.”
“Correct.”
Rachel looked toward the window.
“Then someone else knows about her.”
“That's what concerns me.”
At 8:30, Jonathan arrived.
He brought coffee and a folder of legal documents.
“We can petition to freeze the trust assets,” he said.
Rachel took the folder.
“What happens to Olivia?”
“She stays out of it.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I want her completely out.”
“That is the goal.”
“And Eric?”
Jonathan paused.
“He may try to convince everyone this was a misunderstanding.”
Rachel almost laughed.
After everything she had learned, the idea was absurd.
“He changed her name before she was born.”
Jonathan nodded.
“And he lied to the nurse.”
“Yes.”
“He arranged a genetic test.”
“Yes.”
“He knew about Claire.”
“Yes.”
“He moved money.”
“We have evidence suggesting that.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I don't want suggestions anymore.”
Jonathan understood.
“We'll build a case around facts.”
At 9:20, Harris arrived.
He looked tired.
“The flash drive contains copies of financial records, emails, and one audio file.”
Rachel's pulse quickened.
“Audio?”
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“We haven't finished processing it.”
Harris looked at her.
“And I strongly recommend you don't go to the station alone.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I won't.”
“Good.”
At 9:42, Madeleine arrived.
She looked more frightened than she had the previous evening.
“Laura left.”
Rachel stood.
“When?”
“Early this morning.”
“Where did she go?”
“She didn't tell me.”
Harris immediately reached for his phone.
Madeleine continued, “But she left this.”
She handed Rachel a folded piece of paper.
Rachel opened it.
One sentence.
If Rebecca contacts you, listen before you accuse her.
Rachel looked at Madeleine.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
At 9:56, they drove toward the old train station.
Harris stayed several cars behind.
Jonathan insisted on accompanying Rachel, though he remained outside the building.
The station had been abandoned for years. Rusted tracks disappeared into weeds, and the old brick platform was cracked beneath their feet. A faded timetable hung behind broken glass.
Rachel checked the time.
9:59.
At exactly 10:00, a woman stepped from behind the station building.
Rachel recognized her from the photograph Madeleine had once shown them.
Rebecca Sloan.
She was older than Rachel expected, with short silver hair and a dark coat despite the mild weather.
She stopped several feet away.
“You're Rachel.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca looked past her.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
Rebecca gave a small, humorless smile.
“Good.”
Rachel frowned.
“You told me to come alone.”
“I needed to know whether you'd actually do it.”
“Why?”
“Because Eric always counted on people being afraid to ask questions without permission.”
Rachel felt anger rise.
“You've been messaging me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn't contact you openly.”
“You could have.”
“No.”
Rebecca glanced toward the street.
“Eric still has people who report to him.”
Rachel crossed her arms.
“What do you want?”
Rebecca looked directly into her eyes.
“I want you to know that the eight million dollars was not the beginning.”
Rachel went still.
“It was the middle.”
Rebecca reached into her coat.
She removed a small recorder.
“This contains the conversation Eric had with Daniel the night Claire died.”
Rachel's breath caught.
“Where did you get it?”
“I recorded it.”
“You were there?”
“I was outside the room.”
Rebecca's voice shook for the first time.
“I heard enough.”
“What happened?”
Rebecca looked down.
“Daniel begged Eric to acknowledge Claire.”
“And Eric refused.”
“He threatened him.”
“With what?”
“His reputation. His job. His family.”
Rachel remembered the letter from Daniel.
He had written that Eric needed to stop denying Claire.
Rebecca continued.
“Daniel was going to go public.”
“What stopped him?”
“Claire.”
Rachel frowned.
“Claire?”
“Daniel didn't want Eric retaliating against her.”
Rebecca handed Rachel the recorder.
“There is more.”
Rachel looked at it.
“What?”
“Eric told Daniel that Claire's condition made her an expense he couldn't justify.”
Rachel felt sick.
“He said that?”
Rebecca nodded.
“And then he talked about the trust.”
Rachel's fingers tightened around the recorder.
“What did he say?”
“That if Claire died, the money could be redirected.”
Rachel stared at her.
“To whom?”
“Not to Olivia.”
Rebecca's answer was immediate.
“There was no Olivia yet.”
Rachel's heart hammered.
“Then who?”
Rebecca looked toward the tracks.
“Eric's father.”
Rachel's face tightened.
“But why?”
“Because Eric believed the trust belonged to the Patterson family.”
“It belonged to Claire.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca's voice hardened.
“That was the entire problem.”
Rachel looked at the recorder.
“Why did you keep this for eleven years?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“And now?”
“Now Eric has tried to do it again.”
Rachel's eyes narrowed.
“With Olivia.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He needed the name Mae because he needed a bridge between Claire's trust and Olivia's trust.”
“So Olivia was never the real reason.”
“She was the vehicle.”
The word made Rachel feel physically ill.
“My daughter is not a vehicle.”
“No,” Rebecca said quietly. “She isn't.”
A car door slammed somewhere beyond the station.
Rebecca looked sharply toward the street.
Harris appeared between two parked vehicles.
“We need to leave,” he said.
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not yet.”
Harris approached.
Rebecca handed him the recorder.
“There is enough on that to change everything.”
Harris looked at Rachel.
Then at Rebecca.
“Does Eric know you have this?”
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“He knows I had it.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Rebecca's expression disappeared.
“Yes.”
Rachel's phone vibrated.
She looked down.
Unknown number.
One message.
You should have listened when I told you to stop.
A second message appeared.
Ask Rebecca who signed the final transfer.
Rachel looked up.
Rebecca was already staring at her phone.
“What does it say?” Rebecca asked.
Rachel showed her.
Rebecca's face went completely still.
Harris noticed.
“Who signed it?”
Rebecca did not answer.
Rachel stepped closer.
“Who?”
Rebecca finally looked at her.
“Margaret.”
Rachel felt the world go silent.
“That isn't possible.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“It is.”
“She would never.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Rebecca's eyes filled with fear.
“Someone forged her signature.”
Rachel's phone vibrated again.
This time there was no text.
Only a photograph.
Rachel opened it.
It showed Margaret standing beside Eric eleven years earlier, holding a document.
On the bottom of the page was Margaret's signature.
Rachel stared at it.
Then she noticed something else.
The photograph had been taken inside the trust office.
And standing behind Margaret, half hidden by the doorway, was Evelyn.
Rachel zoomed in.
Evelyn was not looking at the camera.
She was looking directly at Eric.
And in her hand was another document.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written four words.
She knew who signed.
Rachel looked up.
“Rebecca.”
“Yes?”
“I think Evelyn left us another clue.”
Rebecca's face tightened.
“What clue?”
Rachel turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting beneath the message.
A single name.
Daniel Patterson.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: The Signature
The Name We Chose Together Was Written Down Before Our Daughter Had Even Taken Her First Breath
Part 16 of 20
